#love me a ruthless whumper

[seth-whumps]

what if the whumper sliced open the whumpy's arm so they can get the whumpy to talk, the whumpy gives in but would only speak if the whumper patches up the arm. When the whumper does so,, the whumpy tells them what they want to here, after geting the information, the whumper just pulls out the stitch and re-opens the wound then walks out letting the whumpy bleed out

DAMN. i mean. whumper's got no reason to keep their word, do they? and I doubt they like being told what to do very much, so there's no choice but to regain control, is there :)

[whump-mania]

Did my annual (?) re-reading of @whump-tr0pes’s Honor Bound Book 1 (wonderful story go read it) and it has me thinking about cheerful/charismatic whumpers because of Book 1 Gavin

Like I just LOVE a whumper that knows what they’re doing is bad and enjoys it better because of that

Torturing not just for information but because it’s fun, and they’re not shy about saying how much fun they’re having

And that energy paired with brutal punches and beatings, or ruthless drowning/electrocution, and the scary moment when the excitement falls and they’re actually angry is just SO GOOD

[icamefromthepinterestscreenshots]

CW: child whumper (sidekick), mentions of previous abuse. (If you find any more CWs I’ve missed, please tell me!)

Villain was feeling great. Todays plan had gone perfectly and now hero’s own sidekick was tied to a chair in front of them. Poor sidekick probably had no idea where they were, Villain smirked.

‘I bet your praying hero is going to show up and save you. I assure you they won’t. They don’t even know where my lair is; besides, do you really think they’ll go through all the effort just to save their stupid little sidekick who got themselves kidnapped?’

Sidekick was shaking. Terrified. Now completely at the villains mercy, their identity was going to be revealed, they just knew it. And then it wouldn’t just be sidekick that will die, but their loved ones too. Hero has told sidekick about villain. Sidekick knew villain was a ruthless killer. Their fear mixed with their guilt for having endangering not only themselves but their friends too. Hero would be so disappointed in sidekick. Villain was right, hero would never bother to save them. It was their own fault that they had messed up and gotten themselves kidnapped.

Villain crouched down and reached out to sidekicks face-

‘Let’s see who’s under this disguise- which I must say, is rather pathetic. Could you not have come up with a better costume for yourself?’, villain joked.

-Sidekick flinched away, but villain swiftly grabbed sidekicks mask and roughly pulled it off their face.

‘I bet you’re-‘,

The villains grin dropped along with their stomach. This was not what they were expecting. Rage shook through villain. Sidekicks face showed nothing but absolute fear.

‘A child. You’re just a child’

Villains face softened as they tried to hide their anger from the kid that sat before them. Hero had sent a child to fight them. A child. How could hero do this? And who was responsible for sidekicks black eye? Villain knew it wasn’t them. Was it hero? When villain got their hands on them-

But that could be dealt with later. Villain needed to focus on the terrified face in front of them.

‘I’m not a child. I’m 15’

‘Who told you that was old? Was it hero? You can’t even drink yet, darling. You’re a child.

And to be clear, I am not going to hurt you. I know hero’s probably told you horrible lies about me, but I can assure you, they’re not true… at least most of them aren’t true. But I would never intentionally hurt a child’

Sidekick was shocked by the softness of villains voice, which was completely different from the roughness it had been filled with 2 seconds ago. It was just an act. It had to be. Sure, hero could be harsh to sidekick, but sidekick deserved it right? Hero was just training sidekick.

‘Are you hungry? Injured? Let me patch you up’

Villain gently brushed sidekicks hair out their face to get a better look at the purple bruises forming on their forehead. Sidekick flinched away from the hand, letting out a small whimper.

That was it. Villain vowed they would destroy hero next time they saw them. But first, they have got to help the poor kid.

————————————————————————————————

This was my first time writing something like this, so any feedback and help would be appreciated. In fact, it think this is the first time I’ve written a story outside an English lesson (which I haven’t done as a subject since GCSE’s) since I wrote a short Harry Potter headcanon when I was 12 lol. I still remember that headcanon tho, and I’m pretty sure it might still be on tumblr somewhere 🫡

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Villain and Flirtatious Hero in battle. Villain is/has been abused by a very creepy intimate whumper, Hero is unaware of this. Bonus points for Hero flirtatiously pinning Villain and misunderstanding their terror. Once Hero finds out they get super protective >:) angst and fluff pls

Weird, this ask seems familiar…

part 1, written by my beloved @epiclamer

tw: mentioning non-con (touching)

Didn’t speak.

The villain didn’t speak for a very long time. What had sounded like sobbing, what had torn the hero out of their already terrible sleep, had vanished. The desperation and the sadness, the longing for some loving human connection had disappeared and once again, the hero felt clueless.

They’d rushed over to the villain’s, fully aware they were in no condition to make it to the hero’s but now, the villain was politely refusing any help, composed with the only indication of suffering being their red eyes.

“I’m really sorry for making a scene,” they said eventually. Their apartment was nice and clean but the hero couldn’t help but think of them a little out of place in their own home, especially with how messy and imbalanced they seemed.

Restless. Always restless. On the hunt. With absolutely nowhere to go. The hero had encountered a lot of people in their life who felt like this. But this was different.

This was someone who had been pushed not only close to the edge but over it. Every murder, every torture session, everything the villain had done was thanks to a higher motive the hero didn’t know yet.

Suspicion marked the hero’s entire career and suspecting they did but all in all, they didn’t feel like this was their place nor they right to do so.

“You didn’t make a scene,” the hero answered, helping themselves to some tea and filling the villain’s cup as well. However, they knew the villain wouldn’t touch it. “I’m sorry I…I’m sorry I didn’t see that you were suffering, that you were uncomfortable. Looking back at it, I should’ve known.”

The villain didn’t answer, just stared at the hot tea in their cup.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know you don’t but…it might help.” The villain looked at them, little red capillaries making them seem crazily robbed of sleep.

“It won’t.”

“You called me here for a reason,” the hero said. It broke their heart, especially because it was their enemy. Always, the villain had always been the stronger one of the two of them. Ruthless and scary. Efficient and accurate.

Seeing them panic like that…

“I was desperate.”

“Listen…whatever happened to you, whatever they did to you…it’s not your fault. The world is full of shitty people. Fucking assholes who want to take advantage where they can. What happened to you isn’t right. It’s not excusable. You didn’t deserve it. God, you didn’t deserve it.”

The villain stared at them, aghast.

“Maybe I did,” the villain said. “Maybe I deserved it. All the bad things I’ve done…maybe I deserved to be stripped off of my freedom.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I hurt a lot of people.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I am a horrible person.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Stop saying that.” The hero stood up, eyes on their nemesis, staring into the deepest part of their soul. Into the deep part that was tearing up, breaking, falling apart. Their villain was close to crying again. “Don’t you get it?! It was my punishment, why can’t you see that? I didn’t want to be touched, I didn’t want them in my bed. I was scared and I was so fucking tired of fighting. I was so fucking tired of it.”

“And it’s not your fault,” the hero said gently. They cautiously took the villain’s hands, grip loose and soft. They squatted, maintaining eye contact. “You did nothing wrong. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“I was too weak.”

“Another human was too cruel,” the hero said. “You’re not responsible for someone else’s actions. Someone did you wrong and I promise their life will end very soon if I should find out who they are.”

The villain was all rough, reminding the hero of shards they’d cut themselves on if they picked them up. The villain hurt other people, hurt the hero and yet…

“You may feel like this world resents you. As if this is some sick game that’s out to get you. People suck. People are horrible. Fucked up things happen and they aren’t just. They’re not fair. But, Christ. I need you to stay strong. You’re lovable. On some days you’re the only person who actually makes my day. When we work together, hell, even when we fight. I feel like I’m the strongest person along side you. You lift me up.”

“You’re joking.”

“We cannot change what happened,” the hero said. “But I know you deserve to be loved. You deserve to be held and comforted. Wounds like these leave deep scars and I’m more than willing to treat every single one with the utmost care I can come up with.”

“Can I get another hug?”

They did.

[3-2-whump]

Whumper Profile

Thomas James Costa is a muscular, mid-to-late-thirties Caucasian man with a broad body that was built up over the years by ruthless training from the USMC and his own family. He has short blonde hair and steel gray eyes. Thick limbs, strong jaw, and a perpetual resting bitch face complete the mental picture. A scar from an old bullet wound grazes his left temple, and while he has plenty of scars and tattoos adorning his body, the author/artist (me) does not and cannot draw them consistently and accurately across all media. Tom is rarely seen outside of formal wear in public; he dresses the part of a mafia don. When at home, he dresses down considerably to only a wifebeater and sweatpants.

Born to the daughter/only child of mob boss Antonio Costa and James Michael Sullivan, Thomas was raised with the expectation of taking over his grandpa’s organization. He had everything –money, education, a loving supportive family who wanted the best for him, and he decided to leave it all behind to try and live the straight life. It… did not go well. He doesn’t talk about it. Only a few people know what happened, but all anyone in the Costa Organization really knows is that the heir came back seven years later, eyes a little colder, more tired, and ready to learn the family business. Grandpa Tony welcomed him back with open arms and a heaping side of “I told you so” and taught him everything he knew before he died. At the start of our story, Thomas is the new Boss.

Shit I forgot the tag list: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump

[shywhumpauthor]

Wait I want to remain anonymous do this one instead lol

Part 2 of the yandere one?

Maybe whumpee needs a punishment. Nothing that'll scar though ;)

Honestly anon you’ve got me hooked with this. I have no clue what I’m doing, all I know is that it is fun.

Previous

Cw: kidnapping, mentioned past murder, blood, noncon touching, manipulation, emotional abuse, manhandling, creepy whumper, past torture/abuse, captivity, idk it’s creepy and yandere and brutal. Lots of manipulation

Whumpee’s hands were shaking as they stared down at the white porcelain tiles laid in diamonds across the bathroom floor, the dark grey grout making the individual pieces appear luminous in a simple, minimalistic pattern. Their eyes drifted across the rows, unfocused and watery as they counted them over and over. Somewhere in the back of their mind, the answer was already stored, along with the deeply repressed memories of all the nights they had spent alone, cold and hurting laying on that floor, unable to pick themself up and drag them to the bath to clean up.

Their skin was warm, flushed with the heat of so many conflicting emotions, cooled only slightly as they braced their palms against the edge of the bath where they now sat. The faint rush of water buzzed in their ears, but it did nothing to block out the terrible noises that seemed to be playing on repeat through their skull. The cries and screams, gasps and pleas that were muffled by a mouthful of blood looping on an endless cycle, with each return of the dreaded sounds a new pinprick stabbed through their heart. Long since torn from their chest, they felt numb, disturbed only by light tremors as goosebumps rose along their skin. Even bundled up, Whumper’s jacket that smelled terribly like them wrapped tightly around their shoulders to protect them from the cold air outside, Whumpee felt as if they had been left bare in a snowstorm.

Their body reacted before their mind once the sink shut off and Whumper turned to them, flinching back before they could begin to see what was happening. For a fleeting moment, they tensed, anticipating the wicked sting of a slap to their face, but contrary to their fears Whumper just sighed. When Whumpee looked up, forcing their shoulders back from where they had hunched over, Whumper’s gaze was not angry like they had expected. They just looked sad, exhausted. For a second, it unnerved them, when Whumper crouched to one knee. They had cleaned themself in the sink moments before, scrubbing their hands and face clean from all residue of the night before, but it wasn’t enough to disguise the truth. Whumpee could see the speckles of dried scarlet on their shirt, decorating the exposed flesh where their shirt sagged against their collarbone and the cuffs of their sleeves. The tender affection in their eyes did not hide the ruthless murderer they had witnessed an hour before.

“You’ll be alright, my love,” Whumper sighed quietly, their voice gentle like the early morning waves against the shore, the sunrise beyond that paints the sky rosy and golden. A beautiful dawn to hide the storm clouds projected far beyond. Red sky in morning, sailor’s take warning after all.

They raised the washcloth which they held to Whumpee’s face, the pressure behind their touch light and forbearing and all too much. Soaked in warm water, the dreaded being in front of them began to work away at the since dried smears of blood across their cheek, a mark they had left earlier. To anyone else, it may have looked like a pitiful attempt to soothe them, an accidental smudge while trying to provide comfort in face of fresh trauma. Whumpee knew better than that. Whumper didn’t do accidents. They didn’t make mistakes. Everything they did was intentional, cold and calculated through the most manipulative of minds. For a while, Whumpee had fallen prey to this façade. They had so desperately clung to the affection, turning a blind eye to the warnings that came along. With a hand caressing their cheek, they were once blind to the blood staining the palm.

They weren’t blind anymore. They felt every flicker of contact, every prolonged graze as Whumper slowly cleaned their face. They hadn’t asked, offered their assistance or even allowed Whumpee a chance to do it themself. From the car they had led them straight inside, through the door with more locks than any bank’s most secure vault, to the bathroom where they had sat them down on the side of the bathtub and told them to stay there. Stay there and be good for me. I’ll get you cleaned up.

“I know you don’t see it this way, but I’m only trying to help you.”

The warm of the cloth turned to ice against their cheek, Whumpee could no longer hold their gaze. Emotion swelled in their throat, a lump against their windpipe obstructing each breath.

“I know you see me as the bad guy, but I promise you, Whumpee, all I’ve ever done was for you.”

Words built and died against Whumpee’s lips as Whumper’s fingers brushed their skin, the cloth dragging lightly across their jaw. They didn’t look up.

“Do you know how much it hurt when you left me?” Whumper’s voice dropped to a whisper, and Whumpee couldn’t help but buckle under the sudden tension in the air, their shoulders curling inwards. “I have given so much to you, my love, and yet still, it wasn’t enough.”

Their touch was delicate, dancing across Whumpee’s face, the cloth dropping to the floor discarded as Whumper hooked a finger under their chin, the pressure enough to be commanding without being willful. Teasing, toying with them. Like a cat with a mouse, pawing lightly at it’s pretty before unveiling the razor claws from the innocent tufts of fur.

“You’re confused, Whumpee. All I’ve ever wanted to do was make you happy, but you still run from me. I tried to give you space, and look at the mess you’ve gotten into. You need me, I know you don’t want to admit it, but it’s true.”

It’s true. It’s true. You need me. You’re nothing without me. You hear me? Nothing.

“No.” Whumpee whispered, twisting their head away with a spur of movement. “No, you.. caretaker told me everything. You- you hurt me.”

Whumper paused, taken aback by the sudden outburst. For a moment, they stood still, frozen in place. Then they stood, straightening to their full height to tower over Whumpee, expression unreadable as the sudden vantage cast angular shadows from the vanity’s lighting across their darkened face.

“Caretaker lied to you, Whumpee.” Their voice was no longer kind. They reached down and grabbed them by the wrist, pulling them to their feet in a rough movement. Still stunned from the earlier events, Whumpee’s body did not know how to disobey, leaving them to stumble up while their legs wobbled. “All they ever did was lie. They were trying to turn you against me. And it worked, I see. Not even a month, and they’ve filled your head with these.. these delusions.”

“Stop,” Whumpee’s voice broke, a tear leaking from the corner of their eye, spilling down their cheek. Not the first, certainly not the last that would fall. “Let me go, Whumper, please-”

They were already being pulled towards the door, the grip on their arm firm. They couldn’t pull away, not with their exhausted weakened struggles. They knew where they were going long before Whumper led them to the hall.

“You know I hate doing this to you, Whumpee, but you’re not giving me much of a choice,” Whumper’s voice was tight, their face turned away as they marched up to a door. A terrible, familiar door. “I’ll bring you some fresh clothes and supper in a while. We’ll see if you’re thinking straighter tomorrow morning, and go from there.”

The door was pushed open, the old hinges creaking in protest. The tears were streaming down their face now, but Whumpee couldn’t bring themself to beg this time. They stumbled when Whumper gave them a light push, feet nearly falling from under them as they were directed into the dark room.

“I love you, Whumpee. That’s why I’m doing this.” Whumper gave a final sigh, their face illuminated dimly. Expression solemn, the door shut, blocking out the last bits of light before the lock clicked into place.

—————————————

I’m having way too much fun with this.

Any interest in a pt 3?

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Your inbox was named "do your worst" so well

I couldn't resist.

I had this idea a time ago, actually

Whumpee is a living weapon. I love this trope. They are brutally trained to be ruthless and perfect

But whumpee is a kind soul. It hurts them everytime they have to hurt/kill someone. They can't manage to erase their emotions, as much as they want it

One day, whumper(s) needs an information. They send whumpee to a small city and tell them: kill them all, but this person

Whumpee has no choice, so they go with some more people who work for whumper and do the damned work

They manage to capture the person, and then whumper tells them: "YOU are the one torturing them for the information"

At first, whumpee hesits. They never did it before. They don't want to. They end up following the order but is more than they can handle.

The second whumpee keeps asking to be killed, asking them to stop, to just die, and whumpee gives up one day

They don't complain about killing people anymore. Certainly taking lifes, even as heartcrushing as it is, is better than inflicting that much pain.

As long no one's being tortured.

Whumpee can't forget Second Whumpee's screams.

AND!

Whumper manage to pick the information they want another way. But whumpee disobeyed them. They won't go without punishment

Whumper captures another person and tells to whumpee to torture this one too, "but without killing"! They'll only die when whumper says they had enough. Whumper knows whumpee is a very empathetic person. They'll use their feelings as a punishment.

"If you kill Third Whumpee too soon, next time I'm bringing two more to be tortured, did you understood?"

Whumpee has no choice. Their heart breaks at every scream, every needle, every muzzle, every blade

But they continue. They don't want it to get worse.

Sorry if it's too long or too specific, I was actually doing this to a character of mine, but I kinda gave up because it was too whumpy, it was before I joined the community. Didn't want to let this idea die. Feel free to use, or maybe tell this idea to someone. As long as you're tagging me.

Also, hope you're having a good week!

I love this so much!!! the whump, the angst, the shame, the guilt and the pain? perfect. I would love to do something with this, but I’m afraid my to-write list is an endless one right now and I might drive myself insane if I adopted another WIP. so I’m answering this in case it sparks some idea to anybody seeing this. if you write something based on this awesome trope, please make sure to tag @cepheusgalaxy

and I hope you have a great week too xx

[cupcakes-and-pain]

Guess who’s doing whumptober this year? (You don’t have to guess, it’s me)

I feel like I may have mentioned this already? But I don’t remember exactly and even if I did, I don’t think it was it’s own dedicated post. But now it is! Yay!

Without further ado, I introduce to you:

The Forgotten Heirs

The main whumpy aspects it shall feature are: child neglect (mostly just mentions in the story and no physical or verbal abuse), sibling caretaker and whumpee, caretaker-turned-whumpee, whumpee-turned-caretaker, underground/secret slavery, dehumanization, multiple whumpers, fantasy racism, royal BS, starvation.

Here is our two main characters, Eric and Blair Dandridge.

The Dandridge House, a family of vampires with a long line of both nobility and royalty, is known for their traditional values, ruthless political game, and tough love towards the members of their family.

So it is no surprise that when the Duke’s youngest daughter, Blair, did not develop persuasion or hunting instincts, they all but abandoned her. Shoved her into a small room up in the attic, meant to be never seen again. They even lied and claimed she died in an accident while playing outside, citing one of their numerous enemies as possibly responsible.

All her life, the only people Blair knew were the human slaves who cleaned and cooked for her, and her lone visitor: Eric, her older brother. Eric was the only one in her family that ever acknowledged her, and better still, her brother was endlessly kind and compassionate. Even when their family tried to discourage the boy with threats, her older brother sticked by Blair’s side. So when Eric mysteriously disappears and, despite running away and searching for Eric herself, isn’t heard from again for years, she is forced to accept the untimely demise, grieve, and move on best she can in the unfamiliar world outside her family’s castle walls.

Meanwhile, a lonely enslaved Eric is passed around from cruel owner to cruel owner, longing for home and slowly breaking under the stress.

This story is inspired by the phenomenal series Kane & Jim by the amazing @whumpsday. Go check out that story and blog if you haven’t already, there’s truly marvelous stuff over there.

(Quick note: Eric is a cis man, but he uses mirror pronouns. Mirror pronouns is when a speaker uses their own pronouns to refer to a person. My pronouns are he/him, so I’m referring to Eric with he/him. But if Blair, who uses she/her, was talking, she’d use she/her for Eric. Because in the story doesn’t have an official, in-story narrator, Eric’s name will be the only way Eric is referred to during descriptions (meaning no pronouns))

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

Re: analysing Ryan: he's the "love to hate" character in the best possible way (for me, at least). So far he comes across as the most competent in his family and it makes him such a great antagonist; like, his mother is fixated on superficial details(whether Onyx acts graceful or not) over matter(whether he completes tasks or not) and his brother is basically a rich kid bully: the moment he realises he's on equal footing with someone or that confrontation may not end in his favour, Cadran folds like a wet newspaper(at least that's the vibe I'm getting so far). So far, Ryan feels like someone who would be just as functional out of the lap of luxury as he is in one; he can work(or quickly learn to work) his way if not back into lap of luxury, then to being seen as(mostly) a reasonable authority figure position and resources that come with this - and this is what makes him terrifying in a very grounded way (unlike his brother or mother, who seem more set in their ways as rich assholes). Also, we already have indirect proof of Ryan's competence as a whumper - Onyx's behaviour. He's the guy who conditioned him to behave as the perfect servant and supressed Onyx's memories of whatever life he had before serving the royal family. Ryan is ruthless and competent, and this is a very scary combo when established through his actions (as opposed to establishing it through narration - "show, don't tell" at its best). He's not unlikable just because its a genre convention, you written him as a genuinely scary antagonist, and I love this so much i struggle to put it into words. I want to hit him with a chair but I also want to see what schemes he's up to😈😈 also, I love the "every time I write Ryan, he thinks its okay to monologue" tags - he is the antagonist who earned his right to monologue. He's very pragmatic in his vileness(at least so far; based on your tags, he has some major trouble coming his way), and I really like the way it plays out in the story so far.

Tl;dr: I love the way you edit and write those characters so freaking much :3 :3

OH MY GOD. HI. OKAY. THIS ASK HAS MADE MY WHOLE WEEK. I HAVE REREAD THIS ASK LIKE FOUR TIMES JUST GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET.

I feel like you know these characters even better than I do, which is maybe a sign that I've done well writing them but also kind of intimidating?? but yeah. let's talk about Ryan.

The first time I tried to write this story was about a year and a half ago. I stopped for a few different reasons, but I still wanted to rewrite it on my new blog. And when I was rereading my old work, one of the things I got frustrated with was that I was excited to write multiple whumpers, but all of the whumpers sort of blended together. They didn't have any personality, if that makes sense? They were just a bunch of people who wanted to torture a guy. Which is fine but I really wanted them to be more individual, so that's when I started assigning them actual motivations.

And yeah, you pretty much nailed their main motivations. Lucia (the queen—I don't think I've ever mentioned her name but it's Lucia) is very superficial because she is very driven by how she thinks other people see her (she thinks that holding onto the title of royalty is more about popularity than anything else) and it reflects in the way she sees other people, especially the ones who work for her. Cardan is driven by entertainment because he thinks he can get away with anything (hence the surprised folding like a wet newspaper anytime something doesn't go his way). Ryan, on the other hand, is driven by something like productivity? He also sees himself as the most competent person in the family.

I've honestly never considered how well Ryan would do in, like, a job that didn't already come with authority. But he is very... put together, in a way that intimidates everyone around him. He is the type of guy who people praise by saying "They can make the hard but necessary decisions" the way people say about historical figures. Ryan can be super ruthless whenever he thinks he needs to be, whereas if we see Cardan being cruel, it's out of boredom or curiosity.

(On a somewhat separate note, the twins are more or less supposed to be literary foils. Foils are two characters designed to contrast each other, usually to highlight good qualities in the protag of a story, and the twins are meant to highlight how horrible the other one is. cuz they're both horrible.)

Also, it means SO much to me that you included the part about show vs tell because Onyx is not a reliable narrator whatsoever when it comes to the morality of the royal family, due to this conditioning. And I've been kinda nervous about the way it's written because I was worried that the narrator saying "oh yeah this is normal :) they're the royal family they can do whatever they want" might make people think that it's not as bad as it is or something? Especially in spots like chapter three where Onyx is like "oh yeah Ryan hates his brother more than he hates me." But like. I'm glad we can all agree that Ryan is a dick anyway

[silversanimewhump]

Banana Fish Whump List

Summary: Nature made Ash Lynx beautiful; nurture made him a ruthless killer. A runaway forced into prostitution by "Papa" Dino Golzine as a child, Ash, now seventeen and head of his own gang, goes up against Dino, intent on destroying everything in his empire. But the hideous secret that drove Ash's older brother mad in Vietnam enters the scene, and sets off a chain of events that no one saw coming.

Where to watch: Amazon prime and wcostream

*Warning: remember that this list will have major spoilers. Also, though this anime is known to be a bl, for those who prefer platonic Whump as I do, it can be viewed that way.*

Whumpee: Ash Lynx

Highly intelligent, incredibly skilled in combat, excellent leadership, and a determination that knows no bounds, Ash is a very capable young man. He’s the stoic/defiant type of Whumpee, and has one of the most tragic backstories I’ve ever seen. Very Whumpable 👌

List below

(All rape is off-screen)

Ep1: meeting with past abusers, fighting, friend kidnapped.

Ep2: punched, beaten, hit with a belt. Threat of rape. Slammed to wall, punched. Friend killed. Framed, handcuffed. Video of past sexual abuse revealed/played. Sent to prison.

Ep3: fighting, thrown in solitary. Raped, bruised.

Strangled.

Ep4: threat of rape. Beaten, kicked in the gut, strangled, threat of rape. Finds out brother is dead, punched.

Ep5: shot in the shoulder.

Ep6: returning to place of bad memories. Past repeated rape. Loved one killed, father shot.

Ep7: nothing

Ep8: friends taken. Handcuffed, groped, pistol whipped, kicked in the stomach, captured.

Ep9: objectified, forced ear piercing. Chained, cut on neck, crying, forced to kill best friend.

Ep10: implied torture (it’s off-screen), he’s been cut on chest and arms. Fighting, sees best friend’s partially dissected corpse, freaks out, crying.

Ep11: crying, feeling guilty.

Ep12: self-hating, facing a past fear.

Ep13: fighting, kicked, shot at, shot in the shoulder, cut in the side, collapsed.

Ep14: blood loss, nightmare, assassination attempt (almost poisoned), torn stitches, kidnapped.

Ep15: drugged. Grabbed by the shirt, lifted up and dropped, threatened (by past abuser).

Ep16: big arm strain, groped.

Ep17: stalked, shot at.

Ep18: finds out dangerous person is after him, shot at. Intent to kill himself to save friend, giving up future, cut on neck, punched in the face, spit blood, elbowed hard in chest, begging, forced to take from friends, captive.

Ep19: forced to help enemy, feeling so much guilt that he feels sick, kissed by Whumper, drugged (it takes his sight), collapsed, weak, unable to keep food down (referenced). Lifted up by shirt, thrown down, getting bad news, having a fit (moment of insanity), kicked in the face, punched in the face a few times

Ep20: cant see, in a wheelchair, knife put to throat. Punched in the gut, tied up. Friends held hostage.

Ep21: confronting past abuser, reminded of past trauma (referenced recorded rape). Shot at, crashing through a window, forced to surrender to the enemy.

Ep22: tied up, rope around neck, punched, kneeling, strangled with the rope, pushed to the ground, groped, raped, kicked, had water dumped on him, lifted up by the hair. Friend getting shot to protect him, shot in the side.

Ep23: bandaged, collapsing, nightmare. Worried for friend.

Ep24: trapped, bound, pistol whipped, head stepped on. Shot at, shot in the side, kicked, strangled by bar held against throat, throat grabbed, stabbed, knife wiggled as it went in, pulling knife out, gun held to head. Stabbed, killed.

Let me know if I missed anything or messed up

If you’d like another character done, my ask box is open

[whumblr]

About the "ask me to write a fic post": something with a creepy smol and sadistic whumper and a big whumpee?

Endurance

Meeting the leader of a band of mercenaries was always going to be a little tense.

But Whumpee had been hoping it would’ve been under different circumstances, like a ceasefire or at least with his own full team present. Something totally different than his current situation; him now being brought in as a captive, with his hands cuffed behind his back and marched into the compound.

He didn’t resist. It’d been his own bloody fault that he’d been spotted and besides, he was wildly outnumbered here. And so he kept up with the pace and kept his face in a scowl.

They led him to a larger room where a man was waiting for them and as he turned Whumpee recognised him as one of the higher ups of this little band. He hadn’t met him in the flesh yet, but boy did they have a file on him.

Whumper nodded to his men, and the hands around Whumpee’s elbows fell away as they took a step back.

The man was as intense as he’d expected and certainly lived up to his reputation as the ruthless adversary they’d been battling from the shadows. He commanded the room even in silence and had a presence about him that showed he wasn’t one to fool around with. His men took his silent orders in stride and without question.

And so Whumpee was rather surprised when the man’s image wasn’t completely in line with what he expected; when Whumper sauntered to a stop in front of him, and the man had to look up to meet his eye.

Whumpee was at least a head taller and bested him in width as well.

But while Whumper was short and slender, he seemed by no means fragile; he was quite slim but under the rolled up sleeves of his fatigues his biceps strained against the fabric. Slim, toned... speedy probably? Lithe, that was the word.

The man lazily looked up to meet his gaze, barely tilting his chin in doing so.

While Whumpee remained calm, the hidden confidence of the man unnerved him. He had expected a hit to the back of the knees to make him kneel in front of him and so he could look down on him. But here he was, meeting his eye in full confidence.

Meaning there was no inferiority complex about his height to exploit.

Shame.

Whumpee held his literal stare-down in silence.

As he looked down, he fought the urge to break the quiet with a joke at the man's expense. He bet he had heard them all and would have a swift way of dealing with them.

It might break the ice, but it would also break something else.

"Military," Whumper finally broke the silence as he looked over his captive. "Interesting. Those are built to last," he said approvingly. "Tell me, soldier, I bet you were taught to endure a lot."

"Depends.” Whumpee pulled a face. “I can handle a lot as long as it’s not this kind of psycho talk, that’s a hard limit for me."

The man surrendered a soft smile but otherwise didn’t respond to the little sparks of fire. He circled Whumpee and took his pick from the array of weapons behind him. "Let's see how much you can handle."

He circled back front, twirling a baton in his hands and pressed the end against Whumpee’s stomach.

"I do wonder how the military builds up such endurance, seeing as they can’t use outright torture." He slid the baton up, touching over Whumpee's abs under his tight shirt.

"Well, we had a sergeant who was kinda like you who loved the sound of his own voice too much and that builds up a kind of tolerANCE--"

The baton smashed into his abs. While Whumpee had his guard up, the sheer force of the blow caught him by surprise. Maybe, subconsciously, he had been underestimating the man. Physically that is. With the first impression he made, it wasn’t that hard to figure out his temperament.

Yup, Whumpee thought as he strained to remain upright but failed. No sense of humour. He doubled over, pain searing through his abdomen and he clenched his bound fists behind his back.

The tip of the baton touched against the underside of his chin and slowly pushed his head back up. Whumpee grit his teeth in a snarl and glared up through his eyelashes, now at eye level with his captor.

Whumper’s voice betrayed nothing of the short bout of violence he’d just inflicted and was calm and measured:

“I’d like you to tell me more of your unit's current operations,” he said, eyes boring into Whumpee's.

Whumpee strained up before he answered. He’d always been conscious about his height and build, but now was the time to fully take advantage. He pushed himself up to his full length to look down on the man with disdain this time. “Then you're in for disappointment,” he echoed in the same calm voice, refusing to let the pain taint his tone.

Unfazed, Whumper slammed the handle of the baton into Whumpee's neck and pulled him down with a sharp yank.

“I wonder,” he hissed in his face.

“You know, if you want to look me in the eye this bad, I’d advise you to force me to my knees instead,” Whumpee snarled, throwing all sense of diplomacy out.

“Oh, no, don't be silly,” Whumper almost purred. He unhooked the handle from behind Whumpee’s neck, now trailing it down over his shoulders and across his chest.

“It’s much more interesting to get you to kneel on your own accord.”

-

@firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19

[livingforthewhump]

Last question is a prompt- female whumpee and (if you want) creepy/intimate whumper?

I burned my mouth today and have been itching to do that to a whumpee ever since so here goes ;)

—

Whumper dragged Whumpee roughly by her bound wrists, tossing her to the floor once they reached the kitchen.

“You seem... purposeful,” Whumpee noted drily, raising her eyebrows. She tried to ignore the fear spiking through her chest with each beat of her heart as she sat cross-legged on the floor.

“I’m excited, love. We’re going to have so much fun today,” Whumper said with a grin, tracing the edge of Whumpee’s face with a feather-light touch. Her breathing stuttered, and she tried not to flinch away. Whumper laughed. “I love that look on your face. You’re terrified, aren’t you? You aren’t very good at hiding it, but that’s okay. Fear becomes you.”

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, pulling her head away.

Whumper wrapped their fingers firmly around her chin, forcing her to meet their eyes that were dancing with amusement. “I’ll do whatever I want to you, love. Now get on your knees.”

Whumpee hesitated, but complied when Whumper tightened their grip in warning.

“What are you going to do to me?” Whumpee was a bit afraid to ask, her voice quavering, but it was always worse when she didn’t know.

Whumper recognized the fear in her tone. It seemed to thrill them. “Do you remember when I first brought you home, love? I told you a pretty thing like yourself shouldn’t be heard unless I ask to hear you, remember?”

Whumpee narrowed her eyes and nodded, anxiety growing.

Whumper knelt in front of her getting in close with that horrible smile still playing across their face. “And what did you tell me?”

“I told you that I’d never listen to you, and you could walk into the ocean for all I cared.” She had further elaborated that pretty things such as herself could actually be heard whenever they wanted, and Whumper only didn’t know that because they had not experience being pretty. Which explained why no one ever listened to them. But she found it best not to remind Whumper of that at this point. She’d learned how ruthless they could be.

“I did tell you you’d pay for that, didn’t I?” Whumper cupped her cheek in their hand, looking at her fondly.

“Quite honestly I thought you’d forgotten.”

Whumper laughed. “I don’t forget important things like that. You still owe me quite a few days of fun, love. But for now, how about we learn not to speak out of turn, hm?”

They patted her twice on the cheek and stood back up, attending to something on the stove. “Open your mouth, now.”

“What is that?” Whumpee asked, digging her nails into her palms to ground her.

Whumper frowned down at her. “Don’t clench your fists, love. You’ll be okay, just relax. This is a nasty lesson to learn, but you’ll be so good when it’s over. Now open your mouth.”

“What is it?”

They lifted a small, steaming pot off the stove. “This is why you need to learn, love. It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as I tell you to do it. For your next lesson, how about I blindfold you? That way you’ll have to be good. You won’t be talking back then, either. Oh, you’ll be just lovely.”

Whumper knelt back down in front of Whumpee, grabbing her face in one hand and forcing her mouth open and tilting her head back. She grabbed onto their arm, more for balance than pushing them away.

“If you swallow this, I’ll make it burning coal next time, alright?” They murmured, not giving her time to respond before lifting the pot above her head and pouring steaming water into her mouth.

She instantly recoiled, instinctively pulling away from the painfully hot water, trying to spit it out, anything, but Whumper’s grip was firm. She writhed so much that they inched closer, straddling her legs to keep her still. When the water was searing every inch of her mouth and tears tracks were covering her cheeks, Whumper finally set the pot aside and let her head fall back down. They clamped their hand firmly over her mouth, the other settling by her throat so they could tell if she swallowed.

Whumpee sobbed, pulling away and wiggling as the tender tissue of her mouth was assaulted. Burning and burning and burning with no escape.

“You look just glorious like this, love. Ah ah, don’t swallow until I tell you to. You won’t be talking for a while after this.” Whumper crowded in close so their breath danced across Whumpee’s tear-soaked cheek. “Your eyes are what’s prettiest. Has anyone told you that? They get so big and glimmery when you’re frightened, even more so when you’re in pain. They show your every thought, your every emotion, right there. You can’t hide anything from me, love. Your eyes are breathtaking right now, so you must be in agony. It makes me just want to hurt you, over and over, to see you like this.”

Whumpee’s limbs had gone weak and pliant as she dissolved into sobs, any fight in her abandoning her to compliance.

After what seemed like forever, Whumpee had lost all feeling in her mouth. Everything tasted coppery and was slick and painful and wrong, when Whumper finally told her she could swallow. The water was just over lukewarm as it went down her throat, as if it hadn’t just burned her entire mouth.

“You won’t be talking back to me anymore, will you?” Whumper asked affectionately.

Whumpee shook her head, eyes downcast. Whumper smiled wide, pulling her weak form into their arms.

“Good girl.”

—

Tag list (message me if you want to be added or removed): @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @twistedcaretaker @lonesome--hunter @poppys-writing @endless-whump @jkoo7jkoo5-baby-susan @multifandoms-multishipper @shadowylemon @cherryblossomskye @utopian819 @whumpkitty @journey-the-panda @freefallingup13 @shameful-indulgence

[the-three-whumpeteers]

You made me love whumper to caretaker so

Touch starved whumpee actually admires whumper, and whumper wants friends so they become friends and whumpee's like "oh my god they like me" and whumper/caretaker's like "oh my god i have a friend"

Out of the ___ turned ___ ideas whumper turned caretaker is pretty snazzy

The whumper had only really caught the whumpee to take out their frustration on someone, they weren’t even sure if they truly wanted to do it or not. So the whumpee being so kind to them really made them realize that they should just pass up that opportunity.

The whumpee doesn’t mind the injuries, but the whumper wants the whumpee to know that they’re never going to even look at the whumpee wrong again.

This hadn’t been the whumpee’s first time, their old whumper was far more ruthless and left them starved of attention. The whumper also being desperate for a friend really just made it a perfect match.

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

6, 12, and 18 for the whump ask thing you recently reblogged 👍

thanks!

6. Do you listen to anything while writing/drawing whump? If it’s music, what genre do you typically listen to? The few times I attempt writing I tend to not listen to anything cause it's distracting, but sometimes I can do with instrumental music, like film scores or game osts. When drawing or making gifs I just listen to whatever I'm into at the moment which varies greatly (80s dance, goth rock, grunge, synthwave, game osts, whatever i'm in the mood for) and sometimes I listen to Podcasts (but what I listen to usually doesn't have anything to do with what I'm creating)

12. Favourite type of whumper? Can I say none at all? lol no I do love environmental/whumperless whump a lot, but I also like me a classic bad guy. i like them to have a reason for doing the hurting (whether its a personal grudge, a need for information or even a hired rando). when it comes to personality i'm cool with a lot, ruthless, quiet and cold, by the book, reluctant, talkative, humorous/sarcastic, all good for me

18. Do you prefer visual whump or written whump? Any reason why? Mostly visual (as in moving picture). the combination of seeing and hearing what happens just does more for me i think. most of my favorite whump is from TV, movies or video games. But there's definitely a lot of art and books and fic i like a lot too

[whump-me-all-night-long]

Whumpee used to be strong and feared by many, but their love for Caretaker made them vulnerable, making them let themself get captured to save their lover. Whumper reminding them how ruthless they used to be and teasing them for getting soft.

Whumpee was brought in, unresisting. Seated at the throne-like chair in the front of the room, Whumper watched them be forced to their knees impassively.

Whumpee looked up at Whumper, calm seeping out of the action. "Hello, Whumper."

Whumper grinned, dismissing their guards with a wave of their hands. "Whumpee. You've gone soft."

Whumpee's guarded eyes narrowed slightly. "Oh?" they inquired softly.

The last of the guards trickled out and Whumper rose from their throne - because that's what it was. A throne. "Yes. All I had to do was threaten your darling Caretaker and you practically threw yourself at me."

Whumpee withheld a grimace. "I love them. You know that. And I haven't gotten soft. I've gotten better."

Whumper gracefully moved in front of them. "Oh really? Well, let's hope this new superiority complex doesn't stop you from coming back to work for me."

Whumpee involuntarily flinched back from them. "What?" they couldn't stop from spitting out. "I'll never work for you again!"

Whumper crouched, capturing Whumpee's chin with a hand. "I think you will. Especially if you don't want me to kill you dear Caretaker."

[whatgoeswhumpinthenight]

Whumpmas in July Day 6

Prompt: Mistake

Well this can certainly mean many things from who’s perspective you write for, Did Whumpee make a mistake and anger Whumper? Was this this the mistake that lead to them becoming a Whumpee? Did Whumper make a mistake and now needed to fix it or Whumpee may die? Did Caretaker make a mistake and now is back too square one with Whumpee? Just so much variety and I love this prompt because of it.

After being asked about it by @cowboy-anon July will be the Olvon backstory stories month for the prompts as too see the devolution from a powerful feared demon into the soft crybaby we see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mistake (An Olvon Story)

Tagging: @whumping-out-of-time @badluck990 @whumpmasinjuly

TW: drugging, implied death, alcohol, swearing

“You realize going alone is a really stupid idea?” Zariel followed behind Olvon critiquing their plan every step of the way. “If something happens no rescue will find you, heck what if you die?” Zariel thought for a moment. “Actually scratch that I could live with that outcome.”

“You only speak that way because you are second in line, if you had not stuck the idea of greater standing into those three you would still be fifth in line.” Olvon looked over their shoulder glaring at Zariel as if they would rip their head off. “Know that I only tolerate you and your scheming because you are too weak to kill me and many of your plans remove mutual enemies.”

“Yes, yes, I dare not fight you.” Zariel would love to remove Olvon but they were too much of a wild card for him too handle; every demon has a unique power which was commonly flaunted but Olvon hid theirs, demons who were summoned or sought something from beings deemed below them would just overpower them but Olvon took notes from Succubi and Incubi by tempting those beings with their desires to gain what they sought, even stronger demons physically fell to them, the only constant was how ruthless they were.

“I will be off Zariel.” Olvon said while readjusting their tie, they had dressed up for whatever they were doing, dress shirt, vest, tie, dress pants, Wherever they were going was important. “You best not meddle with my belongings.”

“Yes yes, now be off so I can go an meddle with your things.” Zariel said in a joking manner, he remembers the last time he messed with Olvon’s belongings and how long it took to regain function in his arms. “Just know you’re making a major mistake with this plan of yours.”

Olvon didn’t resond, they didn’t want to give Zariel the satisfaction of a reaction instead they strode into a hell portal leading too one of the many human world portals, he left hell and entered a back alley, rain lightly fell as Olvon changed their form to hide their horns and eyes, now that they looked human they left the alley rounding the corner to enter a lounge named “Le Rouge”, they had a meetup there for information, as they entered and looked around the lounge it’s red mood lighting illuminating the place Olvon spotted their informant.

“Hot Vodka Toddy, to table 7″ Olvon stated to the bartender while passing by the bar, they strode towards table 7 which held Olvons informant. “Nate you got the info I inquired about?” Olvon asked as they took a seat.

“Yes I do, had to do quite a bit of digging for you, nearly cost me my ass.” Nate was slowly sipping on his Gin & Tonic, Olvon only trusted Nate due to their reliable information or else they would have never worked with them, Nate threw some photos on the table depicting a broken, ornate spear head. “I hope you know it’s going to cost extra for the info.” Olvon didn’t care about the cost when an ultimate trump card was nearly in their grasp; Part of the Spear of the Archangel Michael. Olvon’s Toddy arrived which they started to sip on.

“You know price isn’t a factor when it comes too me.” Olvon had large sums of wealth at their disposal as the heir to the Zekrius dukedom. “How much?”

“2 mil.” Nate kept a stern face, a sign he was set on this number.

“So be it, I’ll transfer it too you.” Olvon fiddled with their phone.

“It’s owned by a Crime Lord in this city called Mr. Esposito.”

“That’s all 2 million buys me?” Olvon was very confused and angry at this minuscule amount of info, in frustration the shot back the rest of their drink. “WHERE, YOU OBVIOUSLY KNOW.”

“That’s the best part, you’re gonna see him soon.” Nate stood up to which Olvon stood up to confront him but instead they fell over after being hit by a sudden wave of dizziness, Nate crouched down in front of Olvon. “You see he has been looking for a demon to laud it over some bitch he knows and knew one would come if he held onto that piece of metal.” Nate gathered up the photos and shoved them in his pockets. “And so he offered me a hefty sum to bring you too one of his establishments, bartender there spiked your drink, anyway goodnight demon I have places too be.” Nate walked off in a hurry.

“Nate you son of a-” Olvon entered the world of unconsciousness before they could finish cussing him out.